Who: Tsurugi Kamiya What: Feeling the loss of a loved one When: April 21st Where: Demon’s Den Status: Narrative, finished Warnings: Violence!, A LOT BLOOD, On screen NPC death, Fighting happens- kicks, stabbing, getting hit, injuries occur, Leorio is probably gonna smack him for this, I mention Taishi Touma so he gets his own warning,
”This will be a group fight! This young man chose to challenge the Team of Tens alone! Give it up for your solo challenger, Tsurugi Kamiya!” Fighting for money wasn’t something Tsurugi did. Fighting for an audience wasn’t something he ever did. “Weapons and magic are allowed! Each fighter will fight to either total K.O. or death! Winner is decided when either side no longer has any conscious fighters!” But fighting? That was all he knew how to do.
Tsurugi sailed through the air upside down over top of his opponent and landed on the edge of the ring. His eyes were welling with tears, which spilled down over his stony face. He was wrapped tightly in Gleipnir like usual, the familiarity of his cloak was the only thing grounding him. Tsurugi’s breath hitched and he doubled over. His chest felt tight, and he held himself tighter to fight back the sickness rising in his belly.
Tsurugi launched off the post with an intent to kill. The same steeled look he’d worn for his first fight. He swung his leg out and it collided with the back of his opponent’s head, sending them flying to the otherside of the ring. The crowd’s roaring cheers landed like silence while his whimpers filled his ears. The colorful bars of the ring doubled in front of him as he fell to his knees. His head hit the floor of the ring while tears fell uncontrollably from his eyes.
Taishi Touma was dead. It must have happened the same time that his choker had broken. Taishi was dead and there was nothing he could do about it. He hadn’t been there to save him.
”Will he get up in time?!” The announcer’s yell tipped him off to the pounding footsteps from his opponent. Tsurugi luched back, jumping to his feet as their sword swung through the air where his head had been. “Look at him go! He’s so light on his feet! Can you believe we’ve never seen him here before?!”
He’d failed Taishi. He’d failed him in the end, like he’d promised he’d never do. He’d broken all of his promises.
Tsurugi continued to dodge backwards out of the way while he was slashed at. When he had an opening he swung his foot upwards. The toe of his shoe connected with their jaw. Tsurugi continued the motion to twist and bring his other leg up to the side of their neck. He watched their eyes roll back and heard a hollow crack. Tsurugi landed on his feet while they landed face down.
“...9…. 10! AND THAT’S THE SECOND ONE OUT!” The announcer roared above the crowds. The crowd went wild while Tsurugi stared at the floor. Did Taishi wonder where Tsurugi was before he died? Was it painful? Did he die alone? He hoped the debris had struck Touma’s head so he wasn’t lying there buried. Had they recovered a body? Was there a funeral? Did anyone attend? Was anyone else in this miserable world crying over him? Did anyone else miss him? Was he the only one who-
Tsurugi was slammed off his feet by solid wood. He heard a sharp crack deep within his chest. Open space welcomed him as he flew across the rink, the lights spun in dizzying patterns around him. The floor accepted him with a loud slam and his next breath drew no air. He sucked in air with a wheeze, his vision now crowded with black spots. He pulled his knees underneath him so he was crouched. All the while he gulped air desperately regaining his breath. Tsurugi looked out of the corner of his eyes at his new opponent. They were smirking at him while they held a wooden club bigger than him at their side.
“It looks like Kamiya’s getting up! Oh? What’s this?! He’s showing his hands for the first time!” The announcer sounded like he was on the edge of his seat. Tsurugi shook out his hands as Gleiphnir’s restraints hung loosely at his sides. He would win every one of these fights. He’d win them because if he didn’t then he’d have no meaning. He couldn’t let himself become that filthy lump on the floor again. “What can we expect out of him now?! Magic?!”
His fingers wrapped around the familiar hilt of his sword while he pulled it from his chest. He could feel a rush of strength leave his body with the sword, it caused the pain in his side to flare. The black magic fizzled and sparked as it formed into the shape of a tsurugi, his namesake. He held it out to his side while the crowds screamed. The television projected his shadowed face to the audience. His yellow eyes were hollow and lifeless, trained on his opponent like they were prey. They were bare of the tears that had clouded them before.
Tsurugi ran forward with his sword ready. His opponent squared up with their club, readying it to swing at Tsurugi when he got close enough. He stepped into range, they swang, he dropped to the floor and slid between their legs, jumping up behind them. His sword plunged into their neck before he pulled it out and showered the rink’s floor in blood. His opponent grabbed their neck, spinning on their heel to slam their club into Tsurugi. He jumped out of the way and sliced into their arm for good measure. Another cry rang out while more red stained the floor. He turned his attention to the yelling of his next opponent, ignoring his previous one while they fell to the floor.
Despite every jump, swing, kick, and spin being perfectly accounted for and executed, Tsurugi was no longer present in the fight. His body was moving on its own with muscle memory and instinct. Years of combat and killing honed it to the perfect machine. All Tsurugi could hear was Touma’s voice, filling his mind with whispers like a song from death.
“The tree is swaying from the fight of birds
Making the cradle fall down
Kill your mother.
Kill your father.
Kill your friends.
Kill your teacher.
Kill everything and end up alone.
Crawl the sky drowned in spilled blood.
Rock-a-bye baby.
Go to sleep little one, go to sleep.”
Tsurugi stood in a rink of red, surrounded by bodies. The auditorium was silent, a high energy filled the tension. The last member of the Team of Tens fell down with a wet splash. Tsurugi looked up at the ceiling, his clothes splattered with red, and his hands dyed. The crowd exploded into mixed roars, cheering and booing while he closed his eyes. A heavy hot throbbing pulsed in his side, several smaller wounds began to make themselves known while he stood there. Cuts on his arms and legs, bruising down his back and sides, a head wound that left blood running across the bridge of his nose. He'd been reckless, but not as bad as his opponents. He focused on his breathing, which turned into a quiet humming.
“TSURUGI KAMIYA HAS DONE IT! What a terrifying display! That should be expected from someone marked with violence! He took on the entire Team of Tens solo! Seriously, why have I never seen this guy in here before?!” The announcer yelled into the microphone while the stadium continued to be in uproar. The bodies of the previous fighters started to fade, to end up wherever they went after people died here, no one ever truly killed in the ring.
Tsurugi’s sword vanished and he turned to start walking out of the ring, softly singing the same song to himself. He left crimson footprints as he walked back down the hallway to the locker rooms. Touma’s voice in his head was slowly replaced with his own.